


Hothouse Flower

by DeAnna Zankich (orphan_account)



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-04
Updated: 2004-05-04
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DeAnna%20Zankich
Summary: This story is another non-serial 'one off' with absolutely no plot.





	Hothouse Flower

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian:

The phone is ringing as I come through the door that night. It's dark in the loft except for the low lamp over the sink. I can't remember where I left the phone so I have to wait until it rings again to locate it. There it goes--up on the night table. I drop my briefcase and coat, toss the keys on the counter and sprint up the steps to my bedroom. There's something urgent about the ring that makes me want to answer it.

"Yeah?"

For a second the only sound on the line is tentative breathing and the muted rush of traffic in the background. I wait, knowing full well who my caller is.

"Brian?" the kid says.

I try not to let my grin make a sound in my voice. "Uh huh . . . ."

"Um, are you busy?"

"I just walked in." I turn on the light by the bed and wiggle out of my suit coat.

"You weren't at the clubs tonight," he says trying so hard to be conversational. "I wanted to dance with you. It's always boring when you're not there."

"I had a dinner meeting. Believe me, you had a better time." I loosen my tie as I listen to him breathe. His wheels are turning fast trying to think of something else to say to me when he really only needs to say one thing. I can't help it, the situation is amusing to me. Knowing he's squirming and his heart is hammering in his chest, I just let him twist for a few seconds.

He clears his throat. "So, are you busy?"

I turn my wrist over to see the time. 11:45. "It's late. Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"It's not that late. Not even midnight."

"Well, I don't know, Justin . . ." I say going into full chain-yanking mode. "Have you finished your homework?"

He just sighs all petulant and snotty. I love how unabashed he is about being childish.

"Yes," he says irritably. "Brian, don't screw around. Can I see you?"

"I don't feel like dancing."

"Fine," he says and his voice lowers to a flirty purr that goes straight to my dick. "We'll just fuck."

I let him hear me laugh a little. "Where are you, at Deb's?"

"I'm in her backyard, actually. On my cell phone."

"Ah," I say. "So, if I want this hot fuck, I have to come get you?"

He doesn't answer for a moment and I just wait, truly wondering what he'll say to that.

"You know I'm worth it," he offers. Little shit.

Walking over to the door, I grab my jacket and start slipping it on. "I'll pick you up in front of Deb's in ten minutes. Bring your stuff for school." I hang up before he can make any sarcastic remarks about my letting him spend the night and then I grab my keys off the counter.

As I roll the elevator gate down I have to wonder what it is about this kid that keeps me on such a short leash. Sure, he's a hot, hungry fuck and I'm a little addicted to making him come, but none of that is extraordinary enough to have me as tethered as this. I like Justin, he's smart and open and he actually makes me laugh pretty often, but still . . . it just doesn't add up to me.

The ride to Deb's takes less than ten minutes and he's not outside yet. I pull into the driveway and idle the engine, taking out my smokes. The kitchen light is on inside which means Deb is still up. It's not that late, she probably just got home from the diner. Almost as though the mere thought of her was some sort of communication, she opens the front door and marches out to my jeep. She's still in her work clothes which tells me she's only been home for a few minutes.

I roll the window down and lean my arm out, giving her an angelic smile. "Hi, Deb."

"Don't `hi Deb' me," she grumbles. "What are you doing here? He has a mid-term exam tomorrow--if you keep him up all night fucking, he'll sleep through the test."

"He's young," I say. "He can handle it."

Debbie whips out that admonishing index finger and wags it at me. "Listen here, Kinney. I'm on to you."

"What do you mean?" I say, really not knowing. That's odd. I usually know exactly why Debbie Novotny is scolding me.

"You spend an awful lot of time with this boy for him to be a casual fuck. I don't think it's fair of you to take advantage of his feelings for you. You're being cruel."

I just look at her. What else can I do? I'm not gonna argue because it's useless, even though what she said irritates me. Not because I don't want to deny it, but because I do. If I show her that, she'll really be on to me. And I can't have that, now can I?

Debbie scowls and then huffs angrily. "Justin is in my care here," she says. "And I'm allowed to offer a complaint if I feel he's being mistreated."

"I treat him very well, Deb," I say evenly. And that's all I say.

Justin appears on the porch and trots down the stairs, his overnight bag in his left hand. I reach over and unlock the passenger door so he can get in. Debbie reaches for my arm and I turn to her, albeit reluctantly.

"Brian," she says imploringly. "If you don't mean it, don't do it. Not with this one."

I give her a weary smile and kiss her cheek. "Don't worry about it. Justin can take care of himself."

The boy in question bounces into the passenger seat and stows his bag in the back. "Hey," he says to me as he pulls on the safety belt.

"Hey. Say goodnight to Debbie. She thinks I'm leading you astray."

Justin grins, leaning over to speak to Michael's mom. "Debbie, really--I'm okay. I called him."

"I know you did, Sunshine," she says sadly. She looks at me again and her expression pierces me a little. But she doesn't say anything more about it. She just waves and walks back to the house, shaking her head as she goes.

While he's still leaned over, Justin kisses me. His lips are hot and a little swollen like he's either been kissing already or like he's been masturbating. I decide I like the second idea better.

"She hates this," I tell him, pulling out of the driveway.

"Does that matter?" he asks, the concern evident in his voice.

I turn the jeep toward home and let out a sigh. "A little." I try not to look at him for a minute because I can feel him staring at me. I never like what I see on his face when he does that. There's too much there--too much feeling for me to digest in one glance. I hope for his sake that he learns how to control that. Wearing your true feelings so visibly on your face is a liability in the real world.

Back at the loft he walks in ahead of me and drops his bag by the couch. I watch him go up to the bedroom and take off his jacket, turning back to look at me through the slatted doors. He's wearing those black chinos I like--they're low slung and snug on his tight little body and they show off his belly like it's some sort of delectable appetizer. He's got this line of platinum hairs that lead to his pubes . . . I love to lick those silky hairs. They tickle my tongue.

"Do you want a drink?" I ask, going to frig to get myself a beer.

"Sure. Whatever you're having."

I grab two Sam Adams and open them before I head up to the bedroom. Handing him one of the bottles, I tap their necks together before taking a sip. I always feel weird drinking with someone else without offering at least a perfunctory toast. It's an Irish thing.

"Cheers," Justin says quietly. He keeps his deep blue eyes on me while he takes a sip and I watch the way his pretty lips curl gently around the bottle top. He swallows, then brings the bottle up for another sip.

Before he gets there, I take a sip of my beer and hold it in my mouth. I stop his hand from raising the bottle to his lips, lifting my eyebrows a little so he knows what I'm going to do. I don't know how he knows, but he does. He always knows, like he's anticipating every wicked little plan I ever have.

Looking at me with those trusting but devilish eyes, he tilts his head to meet me as I lean forward. I seal my lips against his and gently pass the bubbling liquid into his mouth, playing with his tongue in the popping wetness. A drop of the beer spills free at the corner of our lips and it runs down our chins. We both swallow and press in toward each other. I grab him around the waist, suddenly completely starving for him. My blood rushes as I breathe in. I love the way he smells. Like fresh cornbread and butter.

He sighs into the fierce, sloppy kiss and I feel his heart thumping against my chest. It drives me insane the way he blooms like a hothouse flower whenever I kiss him. I can't resist his urgency . . . the way his body trembles and tries to touch me everywhere at once. I pull back only long enough to take his beer bottle and set it on the platform around the bed next to mine. Then I get my shirt off quickly and toss it aside, reaching for him again.

He's standing there watching me like he's frozen with lust--stunned and speechless from all the primal forces at work on him. I pull him by the fabric of his tight black t-shirt and he all but falls into my arms. His lips are dark and parted, still swollen a little and so, so hot. I'm hard instantly and my balls throb as we kiss again. As soon as I touch him, he's animated--arms around me, hips rotating against mine, his breathing shallow and quick. I love his cock . . . God . . . I love his cock. It burns against me and I can feel it growing, getting harder and harder as his fingers squeeze my arms. He's chewing my lips and sucking my tongue and then he starts moaning. His hips quiver and he rubs his hard-on against me too quickly. I grasp his hips and hold him still, breaking that breathtaking kiss.

"Whoa, baby . . ." I say, looking in his eyes. "Slow down." Our foreheads are touching and I can't see anything else in the room but those dilated cornflower blues. Those eyes are so dark. Shimmering and black and looking at me with guiltless lust. And they are way too dilated for the effects of lust alone. "Justin . . . what are you on?"

At first he doesn't answer, just gives me this challenging look like it's none of my business. It might not be, but that isn't going to stop me.

"I'm not going to scold you," I tell him. "I just want to know. What are you on?"

He wiggles against me, struggling in the tight hold I have around his hips. Tilting his chin up he tries to entice me to kiss him and blow off this tedious interrogation thing. I'm not having that.

"What. Are. You. On?" I slide my hands up under his shirt, around his unbelievably lean waist and hold him in place, just waiting. I can feel all his bones and hard muscles. His skin is like hot satin.

He sighs and rolls those dilated eyes. "I split a hit of E with someone."

"Who?"

Uneasily he tells me it was Emmett.

I breathe a sigh of relief because Emmett always gets good drugs. He's an expert and he knows crap when he sees it. "Okay," I say and I see the confusion flit across his face briefly. He expected me to yell at him--probably wanted me to--or at least he expected me to bitch Emmett out for giving him drugs, but that was never my intention. I'm not his guidance counselor. I just needed to be sure he hadn't got the E from some skeezy pill pusher I didn't know.

And besides, half a hit wasn't that much. He wasn't high, just nice and tingly. Tingly could be a great deal of fun, if I played my cards right. And where Justin was concerned, it was pretty common knowledge that I hold all the aces.

Turning him around so his back is to the bed, I give him a little shove and he drops right down on the mattress. "Stay there. I'll be right back." I go back to the kitchen and get a bottle of water out of the frig. I have to laugh. It's usually Mikey who's making sure I drink enough water when we do E.

When I come back, Justin's sitting right where I left him, smiling up at me almost coyly. His erection is pushing his chinos away from his body in the center of his lap and I can't resist reaching for it. "Lift up a little," I instruct.

He raises his hips into my touch and I slide my fingers under his balls to feel how swollen he is. Nice and tight, but not too full. "Did you jerk off before you called me?"

He blinks and tilts his head curiously. "Why are you asking?"

"Your lips," I say. "They were hot and swollen when you got in the jeep." I bend down and taste those plump, burning lips again. "Nice flushed cheeks, too."

"I was dancing, I told you."

"Not right before I picked you up." I bite his bottom lip then suck it into my mouth.

"You don't know," he teases. "I might have been. I've been known to break into spontaneous dancing at the drop of a hat."

I smile and crawl over him on the bed, straddling him and still holding his healthy, wonderfully engorged package. "Just admit it. I know you jerked off."

"How do you know?" he asks.

I snake my fingers up his hard cock to the waistband of his pants and slowly unzip them. Just like the shameless little hottie he is, he isn't wearing underwear. I grab his cock and wrap my fingers all the way around it, giving it a gentle squeeze. The tip is burning and wet with pre-come and he shivers. He sucks air in through his teeth and holds his breath, wide cornflower eyes locked on mine.

"I can tell by how full you are," I explain. "You didn't want to come too soon with me, right? You were so sure I'd let you spend the night?"

I see his cheeks color in the low light from the kitchen. "I thought that was a good thing--not coming too soon," he says, sidestepping the other part of my question.

I can't keep back the grin. "It's a very good thing. But don't overexert yourself on my account. I love how easily you come." I stretch out over him and slip my tongue into his mouth. Again, he rises into the kiss with his whole body, tasting me and breathing into me. Kissing him is an all-encompassing experience and for a moment I loose myself in it.

I tug his t-shirt off and toss it over the edge of the bed, then I work his chinos over his narrow hips. The water bottle rolls against my leg on the mattress and I sit up again, handing it to him. I don't want to forget about the water, after all. Last thing we need is for him to get dehydrated. Even if it was only half a hit.

"Drink this," I tell him.

"But I want the beer," he says.

"Fine, have the beer, too. But you need the water."

He smiles playfully. "I'll be peeing all night."

My lips spread in a Cheshire grin and I raise my eyebrows. "That could be fun, too."

He giggles and chews his bottom lip. "I love it when you get kinky, Brian."

"Oh," I say. "I have not yet begun to kink, young man."

The way he smiles then makes me think I said the wrong thing. Sometimes when I'm in full predator mode, I say things with unintended double meanings. Hoping to distract him I give his big gorgeous dick another stroke and he closes his eyes in ecstasy. The drug in his body has him reeling with sensation--not like he needed any help in that department, being so young and aroused anyway. But I plan to give him Emmett's money's worth for that E just the same.

I get off the bed so I can ditch my pants and shoes and then I climb over him, hovering in that dominant way he likes. He strokes my belly, my chest and my arms and just drinks in the vision of my naked body. I love how this kid looks at me. Makes my dick hard just thinking about what he sees--the WAY he sees me. It's all there in his face. He thinks I'm beautiful. He thinks I'm dangerous. He thinks I'm vulnerable. He thinks I need love. He thinks I'm a work of art. He thinks I'm the hottest, sexiest, most edible piece of male flesh he's ever laid eyes on. He thinks he can change me. For all that, I have to kiss him again.

"Brian . . ." he murmurs against my lips.

I bite his earlobe in reply.

"Mmm . . . uuhhh . . . Brian, please . . ." His hips raise under me and then I feel his flexible legs wrap around my hips. He pulls me down until our dicks touch and that makes me sigh. I love the way that feels. "Brian, please . . . I can't wait . . . I want you to fuck me . . ."

"Well, I want to eat your ass first," I say, devilishly challenging his brimming desire. I smile down at him, getting my fingers in his soft, spiky hair. "Put your legs up," I say, getting on my knees. I help him put his thighs over my shoulders and then I lift him up from the small of his back.

"I don't know how much of this I can stand, Brian," he says a little desperately. "You know how sensitive I am . . . and you're so incredible at this . . ."

I just smirk, parting his legs and kissing his smooth little butt cheeks. "Justin, you can't let a good E high get away without getting rimmed. Trust me. This is a very important lesson."

He laughs softly and I feel his hot fingers grip the tops of my thighs for support. He's almost bent double with his knees folded against his torso and his hot little hole sort of winks at me. I bite the insides of his cheeks gently, breathing in the scent of his warm, clean skin. I wet my lips and start with soft kisses on his pucker, knowing that the slightest touch is going to make him tremble with pleasure. He relaxes against me and his legs fall open even wider. Reaching down between his thighs, he pets my hair with loving little strokes that make my nipples hard.

The kisses turn to soft licks and I tease the tender skin of his crack, grazing over his silky anus with just a hint of contact from my tongue. He's so sensitive he will imagine he felt me licking him, even when I didn't really. I smile to myself, knowing just how crazy he's going to get in the next few minutes.

Nuzzling the fuzzy blonde down beneath his full balls, I open my mouth over his hole and just breathe on it really slowly. The alternating hot and cool breath makes the kid groan almost miserably. He's craving my tongue inside him and every tiny gesture he makes begs for it. His fingers dig into my legs and his abs tremble with anticipation.

At first I just lick his salty little pucker in slow circles, torturing him and enjoying his unique, delicious flavor. My mouth fills with saliva and I wet my tongue really well before I wiggle the very tip of it inside him. He moans repeatedly but he stays still, knowing better than to interfere with my skill by moving too much. I've warned him about that before and told him that maximum pleasure would only be achieved when he kept still and let me do my thing. Lucky for him, Justin's a quick study.

He opens to me greedily and his hot pucker all but swallows my tongue, drawing it in of its own volition. The intensity of this little action makes my cock throb ache. He is so hot, I can't wait to fuck him. Reading my dirty mind, he reaches for my dick with his hand and rubs the head very gently--just coaxing the sensation to the surface and making me as full and hard as I can get. Perfect.

Closing my eyes, I moan into him, swirling my tongue around to make him bounce. I rub the soft tissue just inside the ring of muscle with wet licks and then drive my tongue in deep, sighing when he cries out. My body clenches and shivers with empathetic longing as he pleads with me to fuck him.

"Please . . . Brian . . . I need you to fill me up . . ." He uses his hands to push against my legs and he just flips out of my grasp with his legs overhead.

I let out a surprised little laugh as he pounces on me, shoving me onto my back. He glances down and checks the status of my erection, then he reaches under the pillow for the lube and condoms I keep there.

Realizing I'm about to be ridden for all I'm worth, I can't help but rip on him a little. "What if I want you to blow me first?"

"I'll blow you later," he says, his breath pulling in and out of his lungs quickly. "If you don't fuck me right now, I'm gonna drop dead." He tears open the condom packet and proceeds to roll it on me, clearly without need of any assistance.

I just smile and fold my hands behind my head, watching him slick the condom with lube once its in place. His fingers slick my cock with long, slow movements that make me tingle everywhere. He takes enough time to lean forward and suck on my nipples, which I love. I don't know if it's the sound of the suckling or the pressure of being sucked or the tickly feeling of that wet little tongue stroking those hot nerve endings, but I love it. I get a few seconds to pet his blonde hair before he leans up to kiss me. His skin is so hot and he's practically panting, he's so turned on.

I reach for his hips to get things going and then all of a sudden I feel his slippery fingers up inside my ass. It's a surprise but it feels fantastic and I laugh as I moan my approval. He smiles at me and kisses me again.

"Feel good?" he whispers.

I just sigh and suck on his lip as his fingers tease and stimulate my hole. He does this until I start fucking back and my dick is shuddering its so hard. Then he climbs on top of me and grabs my cock at the base, wiggling his lean hips until the head presses his hungry pucker. I just hold onto him as he lowers himself down, his great little face going slack with pleasure. He moans and I feel him squeeze my dick inside him which makes me moan. I pet his tense belly as he takes the rest of my length, playing with that soft line of platinum hair below his navel.

For a moment he just sits there, stuffed full of my cock and then he grins like a drunken cowboy. "Oh my God, Brian . . ." he breathes. "I have never been so horny in my life."

I chuckle and stroke his thighs to raise the sensation for him. Fucking on E is incredible and I know just how amazing everything feels to him at that moment. I had a few drinks at dinner, so I'm relaxed, but booze is only good for slowing things down. In this situation, that's actually good. Justin's erotic energy is always infectious to me, but tonight . . . the kid's killin' me.

And then he starts to ride.

I struggle to keep my eyes open because the pleasure almost puts me in a trance, but I just have to watch him. His strong thighs flex as he lifts up and slides back down, his right arm balancing his weight against my left leg. His lips are dark pink and he keeps licking them as he works himself on my cock. I'm watching everything--his expressions, the way the low light plays in his hair and eyelashes, the gentle bobbing of his painfully hard cock. He isn't touching it and I know he doesn't want me to--not yet, anyway. For the time being, he's perfectly content to be rubbed from the inside.

My cock is humming with pleasure and I feel it every time the head touches his prostate. He's so swollen inside and so relaxed. He squeezes me with his sphincter muscles and my teeth knock together from the sudden intensity. He gives me an impish grin and the tip of his tongue pokes out between his teeth. God, he is so hot.

"Hey . . .." I say, feeling the sweat break out on my chest and forehead. "Twinks should go easy on old men."

"Yeah?" he returns. "I'll remember that next time I'm fucking one." And then he squeezes me again as he slides up my shaft, almost pinching the head of my cock with his hole. Christ. All I can do is groan.

"Tell me when you're ready . . ." he says, gasping as his movements get quicker and shorter.

"Anytime, baby." I reach up to grab his cock but he shakes his head.

"I'll do it. You lie back. Just let me get you off, Brian." He kisses the fingers I was holding out and then he reaches for his throbbing dick and strokes the damp tip very softly. He's so sensitive, he won't need much pressure. If he'd let himself, he could come without touching his cock at all--but I know how he feels. He's too impatient.

I take a few deep breaths while his hot hole caresses my cock with relentless urgency. My balls tighten and my nipples itch and that telltale tingling starts deep inside. Watching him brings me closer and closer to the edge. The vision of his beautiful young body straining everywhere as he fucks me is pure porn.

He's covered in a light sweat and it makes his skin glow in the kitchen light. He starts to whine and tremble and the temperature inside his body raises a few degrees, making my stiff dick feel like it's sizzling. I stare at his fingers toying with his cock head, something thuds on the bedroom floor and then suddenly I'm almost screaming from pleasure.

A hot splash of semen soaks his hand and then he lets go, clearly unable to take the intense stimulation of his own touch. My orgasm is deeper than usual and it feels like the contractions are wrenching from the center of my body. It's excellent and I wish it would last forever. Watching him come is compounding my own sensations and his tight little hole convulses around my cock. He stops for a second and just lets his orgasm take him, moaning deep in his chest with his head thrown back.

I hold onto him so he doesn't fall over backward as the last delicious chills of my own orgasm die away. It isn't until after that I feel the cooling line of moisture on the side of my face where he shot his load on me. I just smile. Good boy, he got it over my shoulder and on the headboard.

Justin lifts himself off me and then flops down on the bed at my side. We both just lie there gasping for air for a minute and then he wiggles over to kiss me. Draping his leg over my waist, he puts his arm around me and gently presses his lips to mine.

"That rocked," he whispers.

I have to agree, it did. Grinning, I roll onto my side and give him a deep, wet smooch. He pulls back a little and wipes my face with his thumb.

"Oops," he says smiling. "Gotcha."

"Yes, you did." I kiss him again, sliding my arms under his arched back and hugging him really tight. He likes that after we fuck and I like the way it makes him sigh against me.

His hot little fingers are playing with my earlobes, which I love, and he smiles at me sweetly. "I love it when you squeeze me," he says.

"I know." I kiss his neck and the edge of his jaw softly.

"Can we please do that again?" he asks.

"Of course we can," I say, rolling him onto his back. "After you drink that water."

We both look around on the bed and don't see the bottle, then I remember hearing a thud right before we both started coming. Peering over the edge of the mattress I see the water bottle on its side on the floor. I reach for it and sit up, pulling his arm until he sits up, too.

I unscrew the cap and take a few sips myself, then I hand him the bottle. "The rest is yours."

He eyes the large bottle skeptically. "I don't know . . ."

I cup my balls and display my impressive package for his benefit. "None of this `til you drink all of that."

For a second he just looks at me and then he smiles a little sadly. I'm not sure what he's thinking but something tells me I'm better off not asking.

 

In the morning I wake up with a crick in my lower back, but I don't say anything about it. I refuse to acknowledge any of those annoying signs of aging.

The kid showers with me and we take our time, washing each other's hair, rubbing soap all over each other, frenching like crazy. We jerk each other off nice and slow and then we kiss some more before we finally get out. I'm tempted to ask if I can shave him because I get a charge out of that, but I can see by the bathroom clock that we're pressed for time. I have to stop somewhere for coffee because I forgot to buy beans this week and there's none in the house. Can't face Marty Ryder without my veins full of caffeine.

In the bedroom mirror I watch him get dressed in his St. James uniform. I have some wicked fantasies about that uniform. Something tells me he does, too. Maybe next time he stays over on a school night we'll explore the possibilities.

It snowed over night and we both bitch about the cold as I pull out of the carport and head for the nearest coffee house. He waits in the car looking over his homework while I get a latte. On the way to his school he starts ripping on me about the coffee.

"You drink too much coffee," he says smugly.

"It's not coffee, it's latte."

He just rolls his eyes. "That's just coffee that costs five bucks."

I try to ignore him because it's too early for me to have any snappy comebacks. I just drive and drink my coffee and he prattles on about how I need to take better care of myself, yada yada. This segues into a conceited diatribe about how, at his age, he can fuck all night and still get 1500 on his SAT's.

"1500?" I say, thinking he must be kidding.

"Yep."

"Wow. With a score like that you could get into any school you want." I look back at the road as he starts telling me about applying to Dartmouth and some other schools. I haven't finished my coffee so I'm still a little slow and I ask him if he's going out of state for college. Right after I say it, I realize how it sounded and for an instant I'm unnerved by my own admission.

"Why, do you give a shit?" he says seriously.

I don't know what to say because I already feel I've said too much. I try to recover with insouciance. "It's just the first I've heard of it," I say.

One thing I'll say for Justin Taylor, he doesn't miss much. He stares at me for a moment and then bursts into a supercilious grin. "You do," he says. "You give a shit."

I'm cornered and my only defense is silence, so I use it. But he's on a roll. He can't let it go.

"Brian Kinney gives a shit," he laughs and just keeps laughing. "You are soooo busted. You love me! You soooo care about me!!"

I bite my cheeks to keep from laughing because, for some reason, he's cracking me up. I know he's picking on me but it's funny. Thankfully we're right outside his school and I can get rid of him. He's still chortling as he opens the door and I just have to shut him up.

"Fuck you," I say hoping the words will drip with indifference. Even I can tell they don't.

"You love me," he says as a parting shot and then he's gone.

Little shit.

I pull away from his school and glance back at him in the rearview. He's walking up the front steps and meeting his little friend Daphne. I have just enough time to see him gloating to her about everything I didn't deny and then I turn the corner and head off to work.


End file.
